


Fake Christmas

by RIC (prussia)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hot Chocolate, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prussia/pseuds/RIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrating Christmas ahead of the actual holiday...in Germany's house, Prussia and Austria are the only two people still awake. Left to their own devices, will they drink hot chocolate together? Or maybe Prussia will convince Austria to be his cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fake Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written December 3rd, 2014, for a Winter Art Challenge on tumblr.
> 
> Holiday-themed PruAus, with GerIta implied in the background.
> 
> Prussia thinks it's a comedy, but maybe Austria is tired of comedies. 
> 
> I'd like to write a second chapter for this one...
> 
> And if I do, I might veer it towards the m-rated side.
> 
> Oh, and believe it or not, 'Prussias are for grabbing!' is an actual line from canon.
> 
> Hima says strange things sometimes.

Prussia lingered about in the doorway of the kitchen. Standing in socked feet, and wearing a pair of powder blue pajamas. "Austria!" he shouted. "You never answered me. - Did you want coffee or hot chocolate?"

The house was otherwise quiet; all the rooms dark, except for the small light above the stove, in the kitchen, casting a yellow glow to backlight Prussia; and a TV flickered in the nearby living room.

The house was otherwise dark; all the rooms were empty, except for Germany's bedroom, where Germany slept alongside Italy. And in the living room, sat Austria on the green-striped couch. Wearing a fluffy purple bathrobe, and for whatever reason, he had a satin bow -- an elaborate ribbon, like the type you'd buy to stick upon a Christmas present -- situated atop his head. Red satin bow, and his Mariazell swooped down as if inspecting it; a bee sniffing at a rose, and the haircurl crinkled at the tip.

"I'm not thirsty, Prussia," he said. "I told you that before you went in there."

Prussia nodded, peering into the dim living room; the entrance/exit to the kitchen: a doorless walkway, facing the living room, and Austria faced the TV. Nothing to see but static. The movie he and Prussia had watched together, once Germany and Italy had snuck off to bed, had ended only moments prior, and Prussia had declared himself useful; wanting to make something hot to drink, in the spirit of the evening. Weeks yet until Christmas, but the four men had gathered for a makeshift holiday dinner. Each offering-up a portion of the feast. Germany had baked a ham, Italy had prepared the side-dishes, Prussia had ventured out into a snowstorm for beer, and Austria had brought a cake.

"Come on, Talking Christmas Present, what do you want to drink?!" Prussia begged. "I could put funny little marshmallows in your cocoa...I think we have marshmallows."

Prussia glanced back into the kitchen, not quite wanting to raid the cabinets or the pantry in search of tiny marshmallows should Austria prefer coffee. "But I know!" he said. "If you _do_ want hot chocolate, and I can't find marshmallows, I could always use mothballs."

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Austria shouted. He sprang from the couch, tossing the remote control.

\-- Of course Austria had to be the one in charge of the remote control, while viewing movies with Prussia; just in case a death scene in a horror flick proved to be too gruesome for the refined man, with much superior taste in film; why watch cheap horror movies when they could watch something artistic? Something meaningful?? Something less grim.

The slender device hit the floor with a thud.

"Good job, Genius," Prussia spat. "You want to wake up West? - He'll march in here and tell us to get our asses to bed," Prussia warned, shaking his head. "Then you'll get no cocoa. No mothballs. Nothing."

"I didn't want any," Austria mumbled. "Please Prussia," he said, tugging at the sash of his robe, "I think I will go to bed." And he plucked the satin bow from his head, and tossed it to his feet. "We can play Christmas some other night."

"But tonight is pretend Christmas!" Prussia whined. "You know Italy can't come to see us this year on 'real' Christmas," he said, stepping from the threshold of the kitchen, to re-enter the living room; stepping close to Austria, but keeping the couch in between them; leaning on the high back of the furniture. "Can't you stay awake for a little while longer?" he asked. "We always watch scary movies together on Christmas..."

"Yes," said Austria, peering at Prussia with a weary gaze. "We watch scary movies on Christmas, and we watch Christmas movies on Halloween," he scoffed. "Maybe this year, I just want to sleep."

"Well, fine," Prussia said. "You can sleep if you want to, but..." he looked about the room, the dark walls, rubbing his hands to the silky upholstery of the couch, and stalling; trying to devise the best deal he could, so Austria would agree to stay awake longer.

"Of course you can sleep!" Prussia finally blurted. "Just because you're sleepy, doesn't mean you have to go to bed, right?" he asked. "You can stay down here with me, and sleep on my lap like a little kitten or something," Prussia laughed, and cocked his head. "Yes, you can be my little lap-cat, and I'll drink hot cocoa, and maybe," he grinned, "I'll pet you a bit."

"Hmm," said Austria, at least considering the proposition. "And what if I don't want you to pet me," he said, his nose upturned; smug and defiant. "What if I don't want to sleep on your lap?"

"Well," said Prussia, peering down at his hands; gracing at the silky fabric of the couch one last time before clasping his palms together, making odd shapes with his hands. 'Here is the church and here is the steeple, open it up, and here's all the people.' Wiggling his fingers, and smiling at them. Thinking he'd find an ink pen, later, and draw faces on each digit. 'And this one's named Bob,' he'd declare of his ring finger; 'And that one is Hans, and that one is Susan, and...'

"Prussia?" Austria asked, watching that weird old 'friend' of his; baffled by his weird old ways. "You were saying??" he prompted, and narrowed his gaze; focusing the camera lens of his mind onto those wiggling fingers; Prussia grinning like a dumbass at his own hands. "Would you stop that already?!" Austria shouted, and shut his eyes: not wanting to see Prussia's reaction to being scolded on fake Christmas.

The two always agreed to never fight on real Christmas. Surely they broke such a hopeless agreement, but...for the sake of Germany and Italy, they got along. For the most part. Sometimes. When the other two nations were looking, but...they also got along, better than they liked to admit, once the other two nations _weren't_ looking and had long gone to bed. The two old 'friends' watching movies on the couch together. Cuddling, if only somewhat. A shared blanket. Austria, with the remote in hand, and Prussia's arm wrapped around Austria. They'd whisper about the movie, and during the climax, Austria would cower down beneath the blanket, and grab Prussia's arm; his side; whatever part of Prussia's body was most convenient. After all, _Prussias are for grabbing!_ Or so Prussia would have Austria believe.

"Oh," said Prussia, glancing up from his hands. "I forgot you were here," he laughed. "So has my little Austria Cat decided what he wants poured into his bowl, hmm? - Hot chocolate with mothballs, or coffee with tuna, perhaps??"

"Prussia," Austria began again, "I am not your cat..."

"No," agreed Prussia, slapping his hands to the couch: grasping tight, and leaning forward with a grin, "but you don't look anything like a puppy dog, so you better just pretend you're a cat, yeah?" He stood straight, and shut his eyes, raising one hand, palm-side up and flat, declaring, "It would make the most sense."

Austria huffed. "You, of all people, talking about what makes sense and what doesn't!" He rolled his eyes, and grumbled, "I'm going to bed, and I'm through playing these silly games with you."

"Who said it was a game?" Prussia asked, shifting into the most serious tone he had used all evening. "You want to sleep, fine. You go to sleep," he said. "And I want to drink hot chocolate and eat little marshmallows, and try not to think about things, all right? - I'll watch my horror movies, and you can wear that bow on your head, again, and be my Christmas present. - I don't care if you're wrapped or unwrapped. - I don't give a shit if you pretend to be a cat or not. - I was just trying to make it fun for you, Austria. - It's not like I asked you to purr, or anything."

Dead center in the room, standing in front of the TV and blocking the static; the black and white specks flashing across the screen, and it's a good thing neither of the two men were epileptic. The room flickering, and the lights low, except for the unnatural glow of the television. Austria stared straight ahead at Prussia's deadpan expression. "You want to make it fun for me," Austria said. "Well, that's why it's a game to you."

"Yeah, but..." Prussia began, hesitating a moment while retracing his words, in case he needed to make a correction. Surely he was right, and Austria was wrong, and Prussia would win. "You said 'game' like it was a bad thing!" he finally blurted. "And my games are fun, and that's what I want, and you should be quiet, anyway, Austria. - It is fake Christmas, you know." And he smiled, dubbing the premature festivities, "A holy night!"

"But it doesn't feel like Christmas," Austria said; and he spoke the words soft, and almost to himself. Dejected over a lack of feeling, 'til he realized, and amended, "Not that it is, though," and upon the realization, he laughed. "Ha. It's not really Christmas, so it doesn't matter if we're fighting," and he looked to Prussia, beaming; smiling his first genuine smile of the night.

And Prussia was damn glad to see it. - Proof he had won, and he was right, and Austria was always wrong.

"My little Christmas cat," Prussia said. "See? You're in a good mood now. It's not really Christmas. There's no pressure to get along. It's just...'Drink Hot Cocoa with Prussia' Day!!"

"But it's night," Austria said, and glanced to the antique clock on the wall, "it's night and it's late!" he added, his eyes growing wide. "Prussia, I..."

"You're tired, and you're cranky," Prussia interrupted, "I know. So you're going to bed." Prussia waved his hand, dismissing what he assumed Austria would say. "But you're not going anywhere, Austria. - It's a holiday! - A new holiday!!" he exclaimed. "It's 'Be Prussia's Cute Little Lap-Cat and Be Quiet and Sweet for Once' Day."

Prussia paced from the backside of the couch, to meet Austria in the center of the dim room.

"But I thought you said it was Hot Cocoa Day?" Austria asked, as Prussia grew near. As he stepped closer, and knelt to the floor, batting at Austria's robe sash as he passed it. On his way to his knees, and he grabbed the satin bow from the vicinity of Austria's feet. Tapping the ornate decoration to the top of Austria's right foot. And he tapped it in spurts, as if it were a bunny rabbit hopping through the woods. Little Bunny Foo-Foo, perhaps. And Prussia smiled, and tapped the bunny rabbit ribbon up the length of Austria's right leg. Making it hop onto Austria's right knee, and stop there.

Prussia gazed up to Austria. "See?" he said. "It _is_ a game, and it's easier this way."

Austria peered down, tilting his head, and placing his hands to the front of his robe, to make sure it was closed as well as it could be; making sure the robe wasn't gaping open near the bottom hem, to lend Prussia a view to Austria underneath. To let him in on the fact: there were no clothes under there. Nothing. Just a fluffy purple robe, and a red ribbon dubbed a bunny rabbit, nibbling at his knee.

"I think the bunny is hungry," Prussia said of the satin bow. "Not Hungary, Hungary. But hungry."

"I got it," laughed Austria. "Get up here," he said.

Prussia grinned, and rose to standing. Staring at Austria, he held out his hand without peering down at it. "For you," he said.

Austria glanced to Prussia's palm, and took the satin bow, placing it back atop his head.

"Better?" Austria asked.

And Prussia nodded 'yes'.

"It's a start," Prussia said.


End file.
